Chapter 92 (1/2)

The room was silent save for the sound of shuffling papers and the soft clicking noise that Anastasia's phone made whenever Freya swiped to the next picture. Dan nervously drummed his hands against his thigh as he counted the seconds, certain that time had slowed to a crawl. All he wanted, all he needed, was confirmation. Is this evidence good enough, and is turning it over the correct course of action?

”I'd wager it's good enough for a warrant,” Freya spoke, breaking the silence. She glanced meaningfully at Dan. ”That said, while these appear to be high quality photos, but I have no expertise with photographic manipulation. If these are fake, there would be... consequences.”

That hadn't even occurred to Dan. ”You think they're fake?” he asked.

”Of course not,” Freya immediately denied, with Connor loudly echoing her. It seemed his ability to kiss ass was in no way constrained by a lack of his target's presence.

”If Mrs. Summers gave these to you, then I'd imagine she's already vetted them,” Freya continued with a pinched expression. ”It's simply something I felt bore mentioning. Just to be thorough.”

Dan blinked. ”So you think I should turn these over to our boys in blue?”

”That's a more difficult question.” Freya shifted awkwardly in her seat, glancing to Connor who held an expression of intense contemplation upon his face. When the younger man failed to speak, Freya added, ”I've heard of the People. While it's possible that the APD are unequipped to properly deal with this situation, it should also be irrelevant. I think my great-uncle worked on a case against them, once, in Washington. This mess should get kicked up to the federal level pretty quickly.”

Dan tried to process this, but his brain stalled on a specific point. ”I just realized, Freya, that I have no idea what your family does.”

Connor glanced up and stated, ”You wouldn't have heard of them. They aren't locals.” His bland tone contrasted sharply with Freya's indignant snort.

”My grandfather was an FBI analyst,” Freya explained, giving Connor a exasperated shove. ”He met this one's old man when he liaised with the locals for the Franklin Avenue killer. They got along well, and when grandpa retired, he remembered his old friend who lived in Austin.” She shrugged. ”Our families grew quite close.”

”And now you two are getting married someday,” Abby sighed emotionally. ”I bet your folks were so happy to hear that.”

”Well they weren't exactly surprised,” Connor admitted.

Which made sense, Dan thought. The two of them were hardly subtle about their feelings for one another.

”After all, our betrothal was partially to secure the political capital that her family's connections to the intelligence community provides,” Graham finished.

...

”Come again?” Dan said, shoving a finger in his ear and scratching vigorously. ”I could've sworn that you just said the words political capital, Connor. I thought you came from a family of cops?” Hadn't Gregoir said something to that effect?

”Ah, well, father served for twenty years,” Connor admitted with a grimace, ”but mother forced him to take a less risky job after my birth. He's currently the Representative for Texas' 10th Congressional District.”

There was a pregnant pause in the room as two people's worldviews realigned themselves.

”Your dad is a Congressman?” Dan managed to choke out.

”You really didn't know?” Connor queried with audible surprise. He looked taken-aback by that fact, though rather pleased. With a considering hum, he added, ”This is a novel feeling. I don't think I've encountered more than a handful of people who haven't heard of at least one member of my family.”

Dan thought that statement spoke volumes about how sheltered a life the younger man had lived, but chose to let the comment pass unmocked.

”Getting back to the point,” he said, waving to Freya. ”You were speaking about the People, I think?”

”They are upgrade extremists,” Freya summarized briefly. ”They, I don't want to say worship, but rather idolize the process of gaining natural powers. They thought—” she paused, then amended, ”think that upgrades constrain humanity. They were a pretty major problem in the early eighties, when one of them figured out a way to build cosmic generators.”

Dan opened his mouth, but Abby offered an explanation before the question could leave his lips.

”They were basically radioactive boxes,” she explained. ”Came with all kinds of nasty side effects, too. Tumors and cancer and such. They couldn't perfectly imitate that first event in White Sands, and those first generation powers have always seemed more stable.” A pause, then, ”Not that there's all that many of those around, these days.”

”So they are terrorists, then?” Dan tried to clarify. Abby huffed beside him, as if that conclusion had ever been in doubt.

”They actively engaged in violent activities against mostly civilian targets,” Freya said slowly. ”I would say that the term Villains is more accurate, however, as they favored Naturals and Mutates among their ranks. But it really comes down to semantics, in the end.”